


At the Hour of Britain’s Greatest Need

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Merlin (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-28
Updated: 2008-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has been waiting for Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Hour of Britain’s Greatest Need

In his first trip to Cardiff in over two centuries Merlin was hit by the undeniable sense of Arthur having been reborn nearly as soon as he stepped off the train from London. Merlin nearly got himself hit by a car when he tripped on the pavement and sprawled face first into the street. Only a quick flicker of magic sending the car off at an angle while he rolled himself away kept him from being flattened by its tires.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Merlin shouted and leapt up, his heart pounding away and his face stinging from light scrapes inflicted by the road.

The driver yelled something insensible behind him, but Merlin was too focused on the sense of ‘ArthurArthurArthur’ he could feel in his own heartbeat, like molten gold in his veins.

“This isn‘t possible,” he mumbled to himself. It couldn’t be possible.

Not long after Arthur had first died all those centuries ago, Merlin had cast a spell, the most powerful one he’d ever done. One that he’d created himself. One that had taken him years to get just right. One that had nearly killed him to power up.

He hadn’t been able to take the idea of simply waiting for Arthur. Of simply waiting around being utterly useless and grief-stricken like a love-sick maiden. Merlin had been disgusted by the idea and had been determined to do something about it. He had to find out when Arthur would come back to him. So he’d cast a spell that had told him that Arthur would be reborn, but not for thousands of years. It had nearly shattered him, the idea of waiting for so long to see Arthur again, to hold him and bask in his presence. However it also had given him the hope that made him hold on, especially during all those years where he’d been certain that one more day, just one more day, would be one more day than he could handle without going mad as everyone that he knew died around him.

And now Arthur was here. But the twenty-first century was too early. It should be thousands of years more before Arthur would be born again.

Something had to be wrong.

Merlin ran faster, poured magic into his feet, weaving a cloud of illusion to hide his inhumanly rapid pace from the sight of the people around him. Merlin ran until he flew as if he’d grown the wings of his namesake.

He was led by the thrum of ‘ArthurArthurArthur’. He skirted cars that now moved with pace of snails, dodging the statues of pedestrians until he came to an abrupt stop at the end of a pier where the call was the loudest. Merlin knew him from the moment he saw him.

He was standing with his legs spread while a captain’s greatcoat bellowed around him like a cape. Clear authority in the lines of his body, in the straight line of his spine. Merlin could just imagine Excalibur hanging from its sheath at his hip.

Arthur.

As if he’d heard him, this man who had once been called Arthur Pendragon turned to him.

Merlin’s breath caught.

The face wasn’t the same, but the eyes hadn’t changed. Still the same fierce shade of blue. Still a little wary, a little arrogant, a little tired, but so very determined to do what needed to be done to safeguard his people.

Arthur.

Merlin took a slow step forward, then another until he was but an arm’s length away from him, from Arthur.

Merlin could see puzzlement in his eyes, and the wariness given to a potentially dangerous stranger. Yet there was a faint flicker of recognition which made Merlin’s breath catch.

“Do I know you?”

The American accent threw Merlin off guard. A laugh huffed from him. Of course. Did Arthur ever do the expected thing? Why did he still surprise him after all these years?

“I‘ve been waiting for you, Arthur.”

The man stiffened, surprise making his eyes widened. “My name is Jack Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness.”

Merlin read his expression easily even though he tried to shutter it behind a blank face. Arthur had never been able to hide himself away from him. The name of Arthur was familiar to him.

“I know you, Arthur. I‘ve been waiting for you,” Merlin told him.

“Don‘t call me that. No one’s called me that in far too long,” Arthur told him with narrowed eyes.

Merlin grinned, a wide smile Arthur had once told him made him look like he’d been dropped on his head as a babe. It was Arthur.

There was that flicker of almost recognition in Arthur’s eyes again.

Merlin reached up and cupped the back of Arthur’s head and pulled him into a fierce kiss.

There was a moment of hesitation, then Arthur, now called Jack Harkness, kissed him back with equal passion. Merlin let himself sink into him. Opening his mouth to relearn the taste and feel of the man that had been his guiding light, his other half, his destiny, always and forever.

It was an eternity encapsulated in a moment before Merlin pulled back, gathered his magic and breathed out a word filled with power.

“Remember.”

Arthur’s eyes glowed gold before he blinked at Merlin. His entire body swayed but Merlin had his arms wrapped around him expecting such a reaction.

Merlin’s heart pounded as he saw his spell unlock Arthur’s memories of his previous life as King Arthur Pendragon, ruler of Albion.

It wasn’t until Arthur spoke again that fluttering hope became wild joy.

“Merlin,” Arthur said with wonder.

“Yes,” whispered Merlin, tears gathered in his eyes. No matter what the explanation for Arthur being here thousands of years before he was supposed to be, Merlin wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You found me.”

“Always,” whispered Merlin around the lump in his throat. “No matter where you go, I‘ll find you again.”

End.


End file.
